


this delicate balance (vulnerable, all knowing)

by IsleofSolitude



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Prompt Fill, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25021264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsleofSolitude/pseuds/IsleofSolitude
Summary: It had been a rather odd week for Lesley.Now, there is a door.
Relationships: Lesley | International Express Man/Maud
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15
Collections: Name That Author Round Five: After Dark Redux





	this delicate balance (vulnerable, all knowing)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for round 5 of Name that Author. 
> 
> Prompt was: There is a door that should not be opened.
> 
> Title taken from Existentialism on Prom Night by straylight run

It had been a rather odd week for Lesley. He had traveled all over, met some wonderful people. Maud and he had tried new things, some sense of finality and hope battling within him as they had taken in the new cuisine and movies, cuddled together throughout the day and night. 

Now, he's well. Somewhere. Somewhere where dust and smoke were just flip sides of the other. Somewhere that had north and south as left and right, and his soul was on display. 

He stared at the door. Some part of him knew that this door being opened was bad. It was the same part that made children afraid of the dark, the same part of humanity that made them wary of the evil that lay dormant in the recesses of their memory. If this door was closed, then he could rest easy, he could close his eyes and snuggle up to the weariness in him. 

It was open, it was calling to him in Maud's voice; his eyes tracked it as he sat frozen in place. 

He missed her, he knew she wasn't there, but he wanted to go to her anyway. 

Lesley wasn't one to let the unknown keep him from doing what had to be done, so he stood on trembling legs and walked through the door.

It was beautiful. Constellations pulsed under his feet. Rainbows swirled around him. Mountains glowed above him. Fog cleared away the further he went. His heart beat was a symphony, his blood flowed like a prayer. 

A woman joined him at some point, overlooking the river of gemstones that skipped before them. Her curls were alive with fire and her eyes twinkled with halos. 

"Hello." Lesley tried to always be kind and polite. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

She smiled, it seemed both polite, mean, and empathetic at once. "One would hope the end of the world would be."

Ah. One of those types, then. "Yeah, be a right shame if it was all doom and gloom and couldn't make people happy at that point."

There was a laugh; gemstones floated upwards. "Very true, sir postal worker."

All around them, other people were emerging from flickering doors, stunned looks on their faces as they beheld the sights. 

The wind seemed to drown them; the space beneath them screamed. She reached out a hand. "You seem a good person to spend watch Armageddon with."

He took her hand– cinnamon toast and long hours of weaving. "Same to you. That's what this is?"

The old soul nodded. "It's all on the brink of change. All we can do is wait."

He thought for several long observations. "Seems like we should pray, yeah?"

"Do you think so?" 

They didn't pray, just stood, hand in hand, and watched the universe rearrange itself.

The sight of Maud played in his ears, and he felt himself growing heavy. "Think I'm going. I'm Lesley. Lovely to witness this with you, ...?"

"Agnes. Give Maud a hug for me."


End file.
